


Baby Mine

by lucy_in_the_sky



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Baby!Clint, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Daddy!Steve, Insecurity, M/M, Mentions of Past Torture, Mommy!Natasha, Non-Sexual Age Play, baby!Bucky, but pretty mild, concerned Natasha
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-24
Updated: 2018-07-24
Packaged: 2019-06-15 15:02:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15415581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lucy_in_the_sky/pseuds/lucy_in_the_sky
Summary: Steve leaves on a long mission only to come home and find out that Bucky has, apparently, neglected to eat, sleep, or drop the entire time he's been gone.





	Baby Mine

**Author's Note:**

> Here is a nsap stucky fic that no one asked for! The pov varies but it's all self explanatory. So, enjoy, I guess?

When he was little, he didn't remember. As a prisoner and lab rat for Hydra, Bucky had never dropped, no one ever let him; he'd been beaten and tortured into ageing up every time he started to drop. Hydra didn't really give two fucks about biology, they just needed an Asset. So he didn't - he couldn't - remember. The flashbacks and panic attacks, the memories that repeated over and over once his adult brain was left marginally free from distraction, these all became nonexistent whenever he was dropped.

Dropping was only a coping mechanism at first; when Bucky was overwhelmed or reminded of his years of torture in some way, he'd drop to forget and give his mind a chance to heal. Instead of frequently dropping like most all other Littles did, Bucky utilized his headspace as a tactic to manage his PTSD from years of torture inside Hydras facilities.

His many therapists had noted how beneficial this coping tactic was. He had heard time and time again about those who were not in the same situation as him; the Bigs who experienced trauma and resorted to other, more harmful, tactics to try and ease the pain.

Bucky was lucky, then. Everyone kept telling him that.

So why did being Little hurt so much?

-

“Hey, baby, good morning,”

Steve cooed from the doorway, stopping to beam at the Little in the crib before he fully entered the room.

Bucky lifted his head off his pillow and smiled at his Daddy, dropping the pacifier out of his mouth as he did so.

Steve chuckled and picked it up for him, replacing the brightly colored paci and kissing him gently on his forehead.

“Sleep well, baby?”

Bucky made a noise of affirmation and lifted his arms toward his Daddy, silently asking to be picked up.

Steve reached for his baby, moving him from the crib to the changing station, replacing the old diaper and dressing the Little for the day.

“Do you wanna play with Clint today? He came back from his mission last night and could really use a friend,” he asked the baby in his arms on the way to the kitchen.

“P’ay wif Clint,” Bucky squealed from Steve's arms.

“Okay, okay,” he fondly mumbled, letting the squirmy baby out from his tight hold once they'd reached the Little playroom.

Bucky ran over to the play mat, greeting his brother with a hug and a sloppy kiss to his cheek. Steve watched with a smile on his lips as Clint immediately pulled Bucky into his lap and showed him the drawing he had just colored. The five year old reached for a new piece of paper to give to the baby, handing him a green crayon (Bucky's favorite color) and encouraging the boy to draw his own creation.

“Those two are too cute,” Natasha whispered bemused, walking up to Steve with two cups of coffee.

Steve took the second cup and hummed his agreement.

“I'm glad he's back, Buck’s been asking about him for a solid three days,”

“Yeah,” Natasha sighed as she took another sip, “no one was expecting this mission to take so long,”

“Isn't that how it always goes?” Steve noted with a hint of frustration.

Nat huffed her affirmation and moved to the couch across from the play mat. She stretched her legs out and smiled sweetly at her Little when he glanced up at her.

“Mamma, look, we're coloring together!” Clint giggled.

Bucky was scribbling with a green crayon in each hand and Clint had joined the action, adding his own purple's scribbles to the artwork.

Natasha smiled and praises the boys on their creation, glancing back at Steve to see the look of pure joy on his face.

Steve eventually moved to the kitchen, whipping up breakfast for the Littles as well as Natasha and himself, ushering the three into the dining room to eat before releasing the boys back into the playroom.

“When do you leave,” Natasha inquired after they had cleaned up the kitchen and started the dishwasher.

“Day after next,” Steve mumbled.

Natasha picked up on his hesitancy and hummed in the back of her throat.

“Still haven't told him?” She asked even though she knew the answer.

“I wanted to wait till he was big, but he's been dropped since I found out about the mission,”

He sighed and tucked his hands into his pockets.

“Telling your baby that you're gonna be gone for a three week long mission isn't my definition of fun,” Steve grumbled.

Natasha shot an encouraging look Steve's way.

“Yeah, but what's worse, having Daddy explain that he's leaving for a bit or waking up one morning with Auntie Nat instead of you?”

“Yeah, yeah, I'll tell him today,”

-

Bucky cuddled back into Steve's chest, letting out a little whine when Steve didn't immediately pay attention to him.

“Hey, it's okay, baby,” Steve cooed, curling his hands around Bucky's waist as he drew him closer.

Bucky was all changed for bed, still very little, and still very oblivious to Steve's impending absence.

Steve had been checking his phone for any updates from Coulson, almost forgetting about the sleepy baby in his lap.

“Alrighty, baby, let's get you to bed, huh?” He asked the blanket wrapped Bucky in his arms.

Bucky hummed and relaxed further into his Daddy's hold silently signaling his consent to be lifted from Steve's lap to his crib.

Once settled, Steve sat by Bucky's head, mindlessly playing with Bucky's hair while he tried to figure out how to break the news to the half asleep baby.

“Hey, Buck?” He started.

Bucky's eyes found his and he smiled around the pacifier in his mouth.

“Hi, baby,” Steve smiled.

He sighed and sat back on his heels.

“Okay, baby, I have some news,”

Bucky seemed to age up a tad when he noted Steve's displeased demeanor. He sat up a little and reached out for Steve's hand.

Steve smiled sadly and took the offered appendage, rubbing Bucky's knuckles in between his two hands and he spoke.

“I'm leaving on a mission in two days and I'm not gonna be back for a couple weeks,”

Bucky whined lowly and reached out his other hand to his Daddy.

“I know, I know, baby, Daddy doesn't wanna be away from you for so long either but he has to,”

Bucky seemed closed to tears, but he held them back, choosing instead to pull Steve closer and sniffle into his shoulder.

Steve held onto his baby and whispered softly into his ear.

These next three weeks we're gonna be difficult for both of them.

-

“Bucky, _please_ ,” Steve heard from down the hall.

He had just been released from medical after the mission debrief with Hill and Coulson and he was anxious to see Bucky, in whatever headspace he'd find him.

“Hello?” He called into the empty room, trying to figure out which hallway Bucky and Natasha were down.

“Bucky? Nat? I'm home,” he called again, eventually choosing the hallway to the nursery.

He heard footsteps and a crash in front of him and continued to head toward the baby's room.

Inside, however, he didn't not find a baby and slightly overworked caretaker, but a fully adult Bucky and a very overworked Natasha, both looking sleep deprived and in desperate need of a nice, long shower.

“Steve!” Natasha called from her position on the ground, half crawling over to where he was standing in the doorway.

Steve helped her stand up and gave her a questioning look before he refocused his attention to the room, searching for his boyfriend.

Bucky had run off when Steve arrived, apparently, because the nursery was empty but the door to Steve's room was wide open.

“Nat? What the hell happened?”

She had the decency to look sorry as she explained their current situation.

“He, well, he hasn't dropped since you left, and also he hasn't slept and he's barely eaten anything,”

“What? Why? Is he okay? Did something happen to him? Where is he now?” Steve asked in rapid succession in full caretaker mode.

“I’m not sure...he was just fine till about half a day after you left then he suddenly aged up and refused to drop again,”

Steve pushed past Natasha and rushed into the other room, finding no sign of Bucky.

“Buck? Hey, where are you, I miss you,” he called out tentatively.

Steve heard Bucky give a small shout from the kitchen and he turned in his heels to follow the sound, ready to figure out this whole situation.

-

Bucky breathed into his coffee mug as he struggled to keep his eyes open.

Normally, when Bucky was suddenly awakened at the hand of bloodcurling nightmares, Steve was there to calm him down and ground him. He’d rub his back and whisper sweet nothings into his ear and eventually, Bucky's breathing would even out and he would be able to close his eyes without seeing a shadow of the torture devices or the ghostly faces of those The Winter Soldier had slaughtered.

It had been four days since Steve left and he'd barely slept, tossing and turning each night as he mindlessly reached for his boyfriend, momentarily forgetting his absence.

Steve was off in Iceland, somewhere outside of Borgarnes, and inaccessible for the duration of his mission. Of fucking course he was.

Natasha walked into the kitchen, nodding her greeting Bucky's way before walking over to the coffee pot and pouring her own cup.

“Fury wants us for a mission tomorrow,” she said as she joined Bucky at the table. “something easy and quick, likely twelve hours total,”

Bucky hummed and took a long sip.

“You up for it?”

He looked at Natasha.

“Yeah, of course,” he huffed.

Natasha gave him an appraising look but eventually shrugged and got up to grab some breakfast.

Bucky huffed and followed Nat to the fridge.

That next morning, Bucky rolled out of bed around five after getting absolutely no sleep. He met Fury and Natasha and was briefed on the short mission they'd complete.

As they were gearing up, Natasha leaned over to him and started fussing with his equipment, tightening his straps of his vest and making sure his weapons were secure in their holsters.

Bucky rolled his eyes.

“Nat, your Big is showing,” he grumbled.

Bucky understood that sometimes biology spoke for itself, but Natasha was usually pretty good at holding back her Big instincts around Bucky. Everyone knew he was less than pleased when he was babied as an adult. He was perfectly capable of taking care of himself when he was aged up, thank you very fucking much.

“Sorry,” she replied monotonously, not stopping her fiddling.

Bucky pushed her off and walked out of the room, ready to get on with their task because the quicker they started, the quicker he could hole away in his own room. He had a feeling Natasha would only grow more overbearing as the days flew by.

-

Bucky blinked slowly. He was so tired but he still had to finish with the medical team before he could go back to his and Steve's floor.

Natasha caught him trying to escape the medical exam and was now standing in the doorway, watching as he was looked over.

“ _Natasha, I'm fine, stop babying me_ ,” he drawled in Russian.

Natasha just stood there, starting in his general direction, motionless, until Bucky was finally cleared to leave.

Natasha then followed him to the elevators and into his living room.

“Nat, go home,” he said with warning in his voice.

“Bucky, I normally ignore my Big instincts, but you haven't slept since Steve left and I don't think you've dropped either,”

Bucky rolled his eyes.

“I'm and adult, Natasha, I can take care of myself,”

“You know I know that,” she said in a softer tone. “But you can't ignore your biology. You need sleep, Bucky, and you need to drop, your body is begging you to,”

Bucky waved her off and started to walk down the hall to the bedroom.

“You don't know shit about my body, Nat, I'm _fine_. Goodnight,"

He didn't bother to wait until he heard Natasha leave, he stripped of his dirty clothes and fell into bed, too tired to worry about any nightmares that might (and probably would) appear tonight.

-

He woke up about three hours later, another nightmare, of course, but this one not quite like the others.

Normally he dreamed of Hydra; their torture devices and experiments, as well as the unimaginable things they made him do.

He would wake up in sweat as he remembered the faces of those he killed and the faces of those he left behind, moaning and crying and grieving the loss of someone they cared about.

This particular night, however, he dreamed of Steve. Well, kind of. He dreamed that he was Steve, or, at least, in Steve's place. In a way?

He saw himself, in little headspace, crawling on the play mat they shared with Nat and Clint. He saw himself crying and stomping and screaming and laughing and falling asleep after wetting his bed and it was terrible.

Bucky had never really loved his designation, but he'd always understood that it couldn't be helped.

Now, though, seeing it from the point of view of a Big who had to deal with his shit, he couldn't help but hate himself for ever wanting to drop.

What started as a way to process his torture and assimilate into this century had become a normal routine for him. He would drop after missions or particularly bad dreams or, sometimes, just because he was bored.

Steve had to put up with all his shit. He had his own issues to deal with, but he dropped everything while Bucky was dropped.

Steve didn't want to be his Daddy, he wanted a _boyfriend_! He wanted to take Bucky out on dates and kiss him underneath the fireworks that Tony always splurged on for the 4th of July. He wanted to share his problems with Bucky and know that Bucky would love him all the same. He wanted to be able to make love to Bucky and show with his body the dedication he put into their relationship.

He didn't want to clean up Bucky's diapers and pretend to be impressed with crayon scribbles.

Selfish. Bucky was so fucking selfish.

Bucky rolled out of bed, sure that he couldn't get any more sleep that night.

He headed towards the shower, mentally berating himself for never thinking about anybody but himself.

Fuck his biology, he didn't need to drop. He _didn't_. He swore.

-

“Mamma?” Clint asked from his spot on the couch, ice cream bowl held tightly in both hands.

He looked up at his Mother with big, sad eyes.

“Yes, my love?” Natasha responded, smiling down at her Little.

“Where's Bucky? He woves movie night,” Clint said with a frown.

Nat hummed and pulled Clint a little closer so he was partially leaning against her.

“Well, he went on a mission today, right, and he's just really tired,”

Clint frowned harder.

“Too tired for ice cream?”

“Yeah, my baby, too tired for ice cream,”

Natasha smiled sadly and redirected her attention to the screen, hoping her Little will follow suit and try to forget about the lack of his brother.

Eventually, Clint dis as Natasha had hoped and returned his gaze to the colorful screen.

Natasha mindlessly played with her baby's hair, fiddling with the sandy strands while her mind dissected every plan she could think of on how to care for Bucky.

Her instincts were killing her. She needed to help him whether he accepted her aid or fought her throughout the process.

-

Bucky was tired and hungry and dizzy and fucking pissed.

Natasha followed him down the hall, still begging him to drop because oh no, it's been over three weeks and he _oh_ _so_ needed it!

He felt Natasha's strong hands pull him into the nursery. Wow, what a fucking great move that was, Nat.

“Bucky! Please, why are you torturing yourself? You've barely gotten eight hours of sleep these last weeks _combined_ ,”

It took a lot to make Natasha Romanoff resort to begging but apparently Bucky had worn her down. He probably deserved a medal or something.

From several rooms away, the pair heard a door open and Steve make his presence known.

“Bucky, please, just drop, you know it will make us both feel better,” Natasha basically whispered.

Bucky took several steps backwards, trying to further separate himself and the, now two, Bigs in the apartment. He needed time to pull himself together before he greeted Steve.

“Bucky!” Natasha yelled as she leaped towards him, catching him before he hit the ground.

He didn't even feel himself falling, but apparently he did because he was now on the ground curled in Natasha’s arms.

He growled and wriggled out of her hold, just in time for Steve to find them. He bolted out of the room before Steve could say anything, running through the connected bathroom out to the hallway. He rushed down the hall to the kitchen, planting his hands on the counter and breathing deep until his mind stopped buzzing and the room stood still.

He didn’t hear Steve enter the room, but he felt his boyfriend's arms wrap around his body and Steve's head tuck in the space between his neck and shoulder.

He heard Steve talking but he couldn't really think anymore.

He blinked a couple times and saw that Steve had moved them into their adult bedroom, under the sheets and had taken off his shoes and jacket.

“Hey, Bucky,” Steve said softly from somewhere to Bucky's left.

Bucky turned his head and saw his boyfriend's concerned face. He tucked his body against Steve's, already feeling the stress of these past weeks melting away.

Steve whispered sweet nothings as he rubbed Bucky's shoulders and upper back, pressing until the tension held their disappeared.

Bucky felt himself slipping, drawing closer and closer into littlespace as Steve's hands worked at his stressed body.

He wiggled away from his hands and made a sound unfortunately similar to a whine.

Steve looked sad but not surprised as he drew his hands away from Bucky's body.

“Wanna talk?”

Bucky huffed. “I don't think you'll give me much of a choice,”

Steve let out a quiet chuckle.

“True, but you can decide when we talk. We can do it now or a little but later if you would prefer,”

Bucky rolled his eyes and hid his head into the pillow, trying to hide the fact that tears were threatening to spill. Fuck his stupid exhaustion and _fuck_ his stupid biology.

“Hmm? Wanna say that louder,”

Fuck. Whoops.

“Not really,” Bucky mumbled.

Steve rolled Bucky's head away from the pillow, forcing him to face Steve's body.

“Hi, love,” Steve said as he planted a kiss on his boyfriend's forehead. “I missed you so much,”

“Hi,” Bucky mumbled.

Steve leaned far enough away to be able to see Bucky's face, but stayed as close as he could. He reached a hand up to caress Bucky's head and temple, the soothing genture slowly coercing words out of his sleep deprived boyfriend.

“Fuck, Steve,” Bucky eventually whined, tears falling down his cheeks.

Steve pulled him against his chest and cuddled his head closer to his body.

Bucky cried into Steve's chest and tried to formulate words to express how he was feeling.

“Bucky, hey, listen to me, hmm?”

Bucky nodded.

“Well, I wanna make this easier for you so let me tell you what I know,”

Steve took a breath and paused to see if Bucky would interrupt and want to start from the beginning.

Bucky said nothing.

“You don't sleep well without me, so you had lots of nightmares and probably didn't even try falling asleep after a couple of bad nights,”

So far, so true.

He let Steve continue.

“You don't like eating when you're tired or scared so I'm guessing that's why you skipped out on a lot of meals,”

Also very true.

“But what about the not dropping thing, my love? That's never happened before, huh?”

Bucky shook his head against Steve's chest.

“Were you too busy?”

Again, another shake.

“Okay, too hungry, maybe?”

Nope.

“Did you wanna wait for me? I mean, you've dropped while I've been away on a trip before but-”

Bucky cut him off with another head shake and a tiny whine.

Steve sighed. “Wanna help be out a little bit, Buck?”

Bucky hid further against Steve's body.

“Shh, shh, it's okay you don't have to talk now, it's okay,” Steve calmed Bucky down with his words and with soft caresses to his back.

Bucky hadn't even realized he'd begun to whimper.

“I love you, okay? No matter what, Buck,”

“Mmhmm,”

Bucky fell asleep listening to Steve's baritone voice muming sweet nothings into the air above Bucky's head, continuously reminding him that he was there for him. Always.

-

Bucky woke up, screaming, god knows how many hours later.

He panted as got his bearings.

Bed. Home. Steve.

_Steve_.

The man in question woke up as soon as Bucky did and had begun to calm him down. He was, fortunately (unfortunately?), an expert at how to work Bucky down from yet another nightmare.

Bucky could hear the words Steve was speaking and tried to focus on them instead of the lingering dream.

“Steve Steve Steve Steve Steve Steve,”

Bucky turned around and planted himself in Steve's lap, tucking his head under Steve's chin and placing his thumb in his mouth, trying to calm down.

“Shh, baby, I'm here, it's okay, it was a dream…”

Bucky sucked in a deep breath and leaned back against Steve's warmth.

He closed his eyes and drunk in the sound of his Daddy-wait, his boyfriend, Steve. His boyfriend.

Fuck fuck fuckity fuck.

Buck quickly pulled his thumb out if his mouth and moved off if Steve's lap.

“Hey, hey, no, don't do that, Buck, it's okay, you can drop, love,”

“No no no no nononono _nononono_ ,”

Steve grabbed his arms which had started to tighten around his own body, isolating himself from Steve.

“Bucky, stop, it's okay, listen to me, you're okay, you're safe here, safe safe safe,”

Bucky groaned, frustrated that Steve misinterpreted why he just _couldn't_ drop.

“Bucky, you're okay,”

“Steve! Steve, Steve,” was all Bucky could get out.

He pushed away Steve's hands and forcefully grabbed the sheets, grounding himself as he tried to get a _fucking_ _hold_ of the situation.

He breathed. In. Out. In. Out. In. Out.

He was fine, he was an adult, he was calm,cool, and collected.

He slowly opened his eyes and saw his, obviously concerned, boyfriend staring at him, arms places like they were _thisclose_ to reaching for him.

“Hi, Steve, I'm okay,” he rasped.

“Bucky-”

“I'm fine! Yeah, I'm okay,” he said deliriously.

He opened his eyes- wait, when did he close them?- and saw a sad look on Steve's face.

“Okay, Bucky, okay, I believe you,” he conceded.

He shuffled beneath the sheets and beckoned for Bucky to join him.

“Let's try and go back to sleep, yeah?” Steve said dejectedly.

Bucky cocked his head.

Isn't this what Steve wants? A normal boyfriend who can fucking take care of himself? Who doesn't need to revert to his baby self to deal with a fucking nightmare?

“Buck, what's wrong?”

“Don't you want this?” He asked incredulously.

“Want what?” Steve sat up.

“Me, uh, you know, a-and, me to, like, and so I can, you know, and, _Steve_ ,”

Steve reached forward and wrapped Bucky in his arms, holding him as he started to sob.

“I thought, ma-maybe you didn't like it when I dropped because, you, you wanted a boyfr-friend, not a baby, and I was annoying and bugging you and I-I should just stay an adult all the time,” he cried into Steve's shoulder, stuffing his thumb into his mouth when he was done because _fuck_ _everything_ , it helps him calm down.

Steve's grip tightens at his confession.

“Bucky,” The word was strained with a barely contained sob.

“Bucky, no, no no, I love taking care of you! As much as your biology tells you to drop, my biology tells me to be your caretaker, your Daddy,” he rubbed his chin against Bucky's hair and pulled the boy in his lap impossibly closer.

“But you want a boyfriend, Steve,” he cried.

“Yeah, and I have one, Bucky,”

Bucky whined.

“But not all of the time!”

“Bucky! I don't want a boyfriend all of the time, baby. I want you however you'll have me. Daddy, boyfriend, best friend, I wanna be there for you, Buck,” he said as he gently rubbed Bucky's shoulders.

Bucky sniffled in his lap.

“Like I said, love, as much as you wanna drop, I wanna take care of you. I love when you drop, Bucky, you're my baby, my sweet, caring, adorable baby. I love you, in all of your headspaces,”

Bucky closed his eyes and listened to Steve's words, drinking them in and praying they were true.

Steve fell silent. They both sat on their bed, relaxing in the other’s presence and hoping everything would be okay.

“Yeah, okay, Steve,” Bucky whispered after several minutes of silence. “I love you, too,”

Steve smiled behind him and kissed below Bucky's ear.

“Thank you for telling me what's on your mind, baby,”

Bucky hummed his response.

“You can drop now, if you want, or we could try and go back to sleep,”

Bucky thought about it for a second. He was so tired, so ready to let go and slip into littlespace.

Steve promised him he liked it when Bucky dropped.

Steve wouldn't lie like that, right?

Right. Of course.

“ _Daddy_ ,” Bucky whimpered.

Steve moved immediately. He moved Bucky so he was facing him and cuddled the baby to his chest. He was already in comfortable enough clothing to somewhat pass as baby clothes and Steve couldn't fathom letting his baby go for even one second, so they'd have to do.

He cuddled Bucky as the baby cried, finally fully letting go of the stress and guilt he'd been harboring since Steve had left.

“Shh, baby, I'm here, you're okay, let it out, baby, I'm here,”

Steve rocked back and forth on the bed, cradling Bucky's head in one hand and rubbing his back with the other.

“I love you, baby, _so_ _so_ much,”

Bucky continued to cry into Steve’s arms, hard sobs that wracked his tuckered out body.

“Shh, baby, I've got you,”

Bucky whimpered as Steve moved positions, shuffling the pair until they were both comfortably settled underneath the covers.

Steve held his baby close to his body, gently rubbing his back and head to calm him down.  
Once Bucky's sobs had softened into quiet sniffles, Steve began to sing.

“Baby mine, don't you cry  
Baby mine, dry your eyes  
Rest your head close to my heart  
Never to part  
Baby of mine,”

Bucky's eyes fluttered shut and his breathing evened out.

Steve continued to hum the soothing melody as Bucky drifted off into sleep.

He watched his baby take deep breaths in and out, relaxing into the sleep his body was so desperately craving.

“Goodnight, little one,” he whispered as he surrendered to the call of sleep, content as ever wrapped around the man he loved inside and out.

-

 


End file.
